Tangled Webs
by tika12001
Summary: "Well, you really messed up this time Janie." Jane takes a deep, shuddering breath. She doesn't say anything in response. "What are you going to do to fix it?" She shakes her head. "I don't know, Frankie. I... I just don't know." Rizzles. Please see authors note inside :-)
1. Chapter 1

_Title: Tangled Webs_

_Rating: K (may change later)_

_Author: tika12001_

_Summary: "Well, you really messed up this time Janie." Jane takes a deep, shuddering breath. She doesn't say anything in response. "What are you going to do to fix it?" She shakes her head. "I don't know, Frankie. I... I just don't know."_

_Disclaimer: not mine, make no money, boo hoo :-(_

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so many of my regular readers will know that I like to experiment with different styles of writing, and this is yet another experimentation. I've written this backwards. You'll see what I mean. Anyways, I THINK it makes sense but I'm the author, not the reader, so please let me know what you think. But just so you know and you're not reading this going wtf? haha! Oh and the italics are just... there. To create ambience or whatever. Anyways, enjoy :-)_**

**_EXTRA NOTE ADDED: What I meant in the above note is that each CHAPTER will be written backwards! Jane freaking out and leaving is not the end of the story, I promise. :-) _**

**_(and apologies for the delay in everything... life has been super mega busy lately!)_**

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... dropping something. A bowl, a plate, hell, even a porcelain ornament. You glue the bowl or plate back together, but you can still see the crack. You glue the head back on the ornament, and even if the join is so tiny that it's barely visible, you know it's there. That it's weakened. That, maybe, if you dropped the plate, or bowl, or ornament again... the next time there would be repairing it. The bowl would be shattered, the plate in too many pieces, the ornament unrecognisable, and you would mourn._

_You would curse yourself for dropping it the first time; promise yourself you'd be more careful._

_But you'd drop it again, perhaps because having clumsy hands is your lot in life now, perhaps just because you were never meant to own anything as precious as that bowl or plate or ornament in the first place. And it would be ruined, because that's what happens._

_Because if you take advantage of the things in your life... of the people in your life... you eventually lose them._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Well, you really messed up this time, Janie."

Jane sighs. She continues to trace random patterns into the crappy Formica covered table, and steadfastly refuses to look into Frankie's eyes. There's nothing he can say that will make her feel worse anyway.

Nothing he can say will make her feel better either.

She takes a deep shuddering breath, holds it for a few seconds as she bites her lip while her tongue dances behind her teeth. Her tongue has a million excuses, a million explanations, but her lips and her brain will not let her tongue speak the lies. She knows better than to lie to Frankie.

No, correction. She _now_ knows better than to lie _at all_. To _anyone._ She _won't_ lie. Not anymore.

Lies just get you into trouble.

_What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive..._

She says nothing.

"What are you going to do to fix it?"

Despite herself, she feels a certain leaping sensation in her chest... _if Frankie believes it, maybe..._ but she pushes it aside.

"I don't know, Frankie. I... I just don't know."

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... the moment you first get handed a special gift. It's so special, so precious, that you're scared. You're scared to own something so magnificent, wonder if it can possibly be really meant for you. You wonder if someone's made a mistake._

_You're so careful with it that your hands become extra clumsy, simply because you tell yourself that you mustn't._

_Mustn't drop it, mustn't lose it, mustn't touch it too much, mustn't let it get dirty, or soiled, or _ruined_, because it's so special, so wonderful and _can it really be meant for you?

_Could someone really trust you with such a precious gift as this?_

_It's like that moment where you wonder if you're dreaming, wonder if it can really be real, because it's a gift almost beyond your dreams. It's a gift you've only just barely allowed yourself to think of, because you _never_ thought it could come true._

_It's like that moment when you shut yourself off to the possibility even when it's shoved in your face, close it down because the thought of it _not_ being real, _not _being yours hurts so damn much that you have to._

_It's like that moment where you hurt someone inadvertently, just to stop yourself from hurting._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Tell me what happened."

Jane breathes out slowly, wipes ineffectively at her dry eyes, pushes back at her wet hair. She wants to cry, she wants to cry badly, because maybe that will help to loosen the invisible noose that's been gradually tightening around her neck these past few hours.

She can't cry though. It's like she has been denied the ability, denied it simply to make her feel worse.

Jane wonders if it's possible to feel worse than what she's feeling now.

"I fucked up." The words are hollow, harsh, unforgiving.

"How?" Frankie's voice is quiet, soft, unassuming and non judgmental.

It makes her feel worse. He _should_ be loud, he _should_ be assuming, he _should_ be judging. Doesn't he know this?

"I ran."

"You ran from what?"

Jane sighs, sits down at the table, begins to trace random patterns on its surface.

"She kissed me. And I ran."

"Why?"

Jane drops her gaze from his. "Because... it felt too good to be true."

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... being stuck inside a horror film. You know that every move you make will be the wrong one. You know that you are not the heroine, you are not meant to survive._

_Now it is simply a question of how long you can stay alive._

_You want to freeze in terror but it simply means you will die sooner. So you run. You don't look behind you... looking back will slow you down. You just keep running._

_But this isn't something you can run from. You are not meant to survive this tale of horror._

_You run anyway._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Where are you?" Jane yells into the phone, holding it up to her ear as she wrapped her arms around her body. Frankie's reply is almost drowned out by the rain pouring down outside the telephone booth Jane has ensconced herself in, but she can still hear the bewilderment in his voice.

"At home, why?"

"Come to the Dirty Robber. Now."

She doesn't bother waiting for a response, knows he will do as he's asked, simply because it's she who asked and she moves out of the phone booth and stands outside the bar. She barely notices the rain that pours down endlessly from the sky. It is a never-ending waterfall that drenches her to the bone, and she feels she deserves nothing better.

She knows she has fucked up, but she can't go back yet. She was not the brave one after all.

Maura was far braver than her.

"Jane, what are you doing? Let's get inside!" Frankie's voice jolts Jane from the other world she has lost herself in only seconds later or so it seems, and she allows him to usher her inside quickly, move her to a table where she stands silent and dripping as he sits down.

"What happened, Jane?" he asks, and she looks down at him, gasps for air softly. Frantically pulls at her jacket, because she feels like she can't breathe. He helps her out of it and then asks again, "What happened?"

She looks at him, opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

She doesn't know where to begin.

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... Christmas. And Easter. And birthdays, and holidays, and snow days and it's all rolled up into one and it feels so goddamn amazing that you know, you _know_, it can't be good for you because anything that's as addictive as this can never be good for you._

_You _know_ it's not good for you, and yet you can't stop, you can't stop, you're addicted to the taste, the smell, the sheer sensation of it all and you know that you will never, ever top this high._

_You're flying without ever leaving the ground, and it's like Heaven on earth, and marshmallows in hot chocolate, and Christmas in July, and peanut butter and fluff... it's like all of those and any other of those millions of things that _shouldn't_ go together but _do_ and are so freaking good that you just can't... you just can't._

_It's like the most incredible thing on earth, and you just know that something as sweet and as good as that... could never have been intended for _you_._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"Jane?" Maura's voice is soft, questioning as Jane's eyes widen almost comically. She leans back. "Is everything okay?"

It's not; Maura must know that it's most definitely _not_ okay. Jane pulls away completely, breaking the hold that Maura had of her hips, completely destroying the delicate touches and hold she had of Maura's neck.

"You... you just..."

"I just...?" Maura continues but she doesn't look upset. On the contrary, she almost seems amused. "I just... what?"

Jane gapes at her and retreats to a safe corner of the kitchen, well out of arm's reach. "You just..." she stops, flounders for the words, "kissed me!"

"Technically," Maura purrs, approaching Jane predatorily, "we kissed each other." Maura suddenly stops dead in her tracks and looks at Jane in growing concern. Jane wonders if the sheer terror she is feeling is displayed on her face for the whole world to see.

The whole world, of course, being Dr Maura Isles.

"Is everything okay?" Maura asks again, but there is no amusement in her voice this time. She sounds scared. "Did you... did you not like that?"

Jane stares at her with wide eyes. _What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive._

"No. No, I didn't!"

Jane grabs her shoes and runs. Sometimes it is easier to run than to face the truth.

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... finding an amazing outfit. Or shirt, or pants, or hell, even shoes. It's like finding that one item that is so brilliant... so versatile, so comfortable, so perfect for every occasion... that you don't actually wear it._

_It just stays in your closet, gathering dust, because what if you wear it _this_ time, and another, even more special event, comes up? You can't wear it twice in a row surely... even you know that. And you don't want to ruin it._

_It's too special for that._

_But then you see someone else wearing it, someone else rocking the look, and you feel a wave of jealousy sweeping over you. Everyone is complimentary to _that_ person, the person wearing _your_ outfit, and no one ever realizes that you could have been the one to wear it first._

_Had you been brave enough._

_Had you been confident enough to step outside your own front door, wearing it proudly like a badge of honour._

_You could have had the outfit first, you could have had the outfit always, but you waited too long, and now the opportunity is gone._

_R&IR&IR&I_

The two glasses clink together in Jane's hand as she awkwardly holds the bottle in the other and knocks on the door with her elbow. When Maura opens the door, Jane grins at her.

"Thought we'd celebrate."

Maura frowns in confusion as Jane pushes past her and kicks her shoes off, immediately heading over to the couch. "Celebrate?"

"Hmm, kinda looks like rain, don't you think?"

Maura shakes her head, refuses to be distracted. "What are we celebrating, Jane?"

Jane pops the cork on the ridiculously expensive wine bottle in her hand and begins to pour some for herself and Maura. She is careful to only pour to the height Maura had previously informed her was acceptable. Once done, she hands a glass to Maura, careful to use her left hand to hand it over.

Maura's face shuts down when she sees the ring. "Congratulations," she says flatly and Jane laughs, shakes her head.

"Look closer."

Maura has turned away and it takes a bit of prodding on Jane's part for her to turn back again. When she does, Jane can see a suspicious sheen of wetness covering her eyes. She doesn't say anything though, simply holds out her hand once more. Maura sighs finally, looks down, and Jane smiles giddily when she hears the gasp.

"I said no, Maura! I said no!" Maura's holding her hand now, holding it in between both of her own, greedily taking in the sight of Jane wearing the ring that she herself had bought her six months ago for a birthday present. Jane is staring at her, waiting for a response. She knows it was a bit cruel to trick Maura this way, but her reaction was just as Jane pictured it and she can't bring herself to feel too bad, especially when Maura looks up at her with eyes shining with happiness. She waits for Maura to say something, a million words dancing on her own tongue to explain her decision, explain her choices, but Maura says nothing. Simply steps forward, hands reaching out and grabbing Jane by the hips. Automatically, Jane's arms swing up to loop gently around Maura's neck, and she barely has a second to wonder what's going on before their lips meet and they are kissing.

And it's the best damn thing Jane has ever experienced.

END Part One/?

**Hi, me again! I think this will be a two parter but I haven't written the second part yet... if this gets a good reception, I will try to have it up in a day or so. If not, it might take me longer... (hint hint, reviews make me write quicker! lol) Let me know what you think of this though please! Hopefully it makes sense! :-P**

**Much love to you all! -tika**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Okay, so the end of this starts after the FIRST non-italicised part of chapter one.. Just to confuse you all. :-P Each chapter is written backwards, maybe that makes more sense... :-P_**

**_Again, just a writing exercise so if you hate it, that's fine! Please don't feel like you have to hide behind 'Guest' when critiquing my work, I promise I won't bite :-P but please, if you say you don't like it, tell me why! (i.e. not a fan of this particular style of writing, etc)._**

_It's like... that moment when you're on top of the highest hill on the roller coaster. You're looking down, and it feels like you can see everything. It feels like life is perfect in that moment, like nothing could ever be better, like you know what it is you_ want_, like you know what it is you _need_, and nothing can ever take that feeling away._

_But then, all of a sudden, you're rolling down the hill._

_And there's a part of you that is exhilarated at the feeling, but another part that is mourning. It is mourning that feeling you had at the top of the hill, where everything was perfect, and clear, and wonderful._

_You could see so clearly from the top, but now you're stuck in the valleys again, and everything is murky._

_You can see other people, you can see the journey and the immediate track ahead, but it feels like even the sky has been made invisible by the mountains around you._

_And you miss the hill._

_R&IR&IR&I_

Jane stands at the door, her hand raised in preparation of knocking, but she is frozen. She doesn't know what to do, what to say.

How to fix this mistake.

And even as she wonders this, a small treacherous part of her wonders if it _was_ a mistake.

Wasn't it easier to run? Easier to run from this than to face the changes that this would mean, the changes that could potentially, no, that _would definitely_, change a relationship that she has come to realize is one of the most important ones in her life?

Jane sucks in a deep breath, suddenly made aware by the swimming in her head that she has forgotten to do so for several long minutes, and drops her hand.

She is not brave.

She turns away, takes one step towards her car, when the door suddenly opens behind her. A wave of warm air spills out, painting the back of Jane's legs with warmth and she freezes in place suddenly, as though the warm air was actually an Arctic chill capable of stilling the very blood in her veins.

"Jane?"

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... choosing what to eat for dinner. You're tossing up between the choices, pizza or Chinese, Chinese or pizza? Both sound equally appealing, both are delicious, and they cost about the same price._

_There is no rational choice to be made, no one choice that makes more sense above the other, it is simply your own tastes, your own opinions that will waver the score on this._

_So you choose. You choose the one that you desire the most, the one that you know will satisfy your cravings for longer, but while you wait for it, you wonder if you made the wrong choice._

_You wonder if maybe you should have chosen the other option._

_The other option that was easier, perhaps... pizza did not require cutlery, while your choice of Chinese did. And while you wait, your mind is in a whirlwind of indecision, a regular cacophony of arguments for and against, so loud that you fear you have gone insane._

_It is only one simple decision, after all._

_But then the Chinese arrives and you open it up and inhale the intoxicating aroma. And when you sit down, you decide that the use of cutlery isn't such a big deal after all._

_That maybe, when you've made the right choice, sometimes working a little bit harder for it is totally worth it._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"I've gotta go over there." Jane stands up abruptly and Frankie looks up at her.

"I think that's a good idea," he says simply, and it's like the words have frozen Jane in place. Where, less than 30 seconds ago, she was practically running out the door, now she has stopped in her tracks, staring blankly.

"You do?" she asks quietly, and he sighs heavily.

"Yes." He doesn't reach out to her, doesn't make any sudden movements. She is grateful; she feels like a skittish horse, ready to shy away at the most minute of movements. Yet... she also wants him to touch her, to hold her hand. She wants the comfort that only he is able to give.

Frankie is her little brother, but he acts like her big brother most of the time.

"What do I say?" she asks, staring at the door.

"Tell her what you feel."

"What? That I love her, that I want her, that I can't imagine my life without her?" Jane's voice is crisp, harsh, sarcastic.

"Yes." So simple, reserved, to the point, and Jane finally drags her gaze to Frankie's. "Tell her that, but tell her the truth too."

_What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive._

"Don't pretend to have all the answers, Janie. Don't pretend that you're not freaking out. Just talk to her."

Jane lets out a breath.

_R&IR&IR&I_

_It's like... suddenly seeing for the first time. Or perhaps that's an overused statement, far too complex for an always-seeing person to grasp._

_Perhaps it is more like seeing something for the first time... through new glasses._

_You knew that the view was spectacular before. The colours were exquisite, the sights not to be scoffed at. The height was phenomenal, the lay of the land beyond your wildest imagination._

_But then you got your glasses._

_And you stood in the same spot._

_You _knew_ that everything was the same, that nothing had _really_ changed, that the change was only really in your head, but it still took your breath away. You wondered how you could have lived your whole life without knowing the beauty that lay at your feet, without seeing it, feeling it, _knowing_ it in your very soul._

_You feel like you can see every tree, every twitching and quivering blade of glass. You feel like the very ants, bees and flowers have gathered on this momentous occasion simply to wave at you, that the sunset gathered together its finest palette of colours simply to dazzle you with. You feel like the world is lying at your feet, and you are amazed once again at its sheer beauty._

_And you wonder._

_You wonder how it is that you have been so blessed, that you have been allowed to witness it._

_R&IR&IR&I_

"You have to know. You're the only one who _can_ fix this, Jane. No one else can do it for you."

"I _know_ that!" Jane replies harshly, but she fears that her movements betray her. Her voice is angry, but her body isn't, and, even though she doesn't look up at him, she knows that Frankie is studying her intently.

She continues to trail ever-so-gentle circles on the table top. She doesn't look up.

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

She asks the question in an abrupt tone, but her body continues to give her away.

"Tell me how you felt when it happened."

"I don't know," she mumbles to the table, and she can almost hear him smiling.

"Don't tangle your webs, Janie."

Jane huffed out a laugh, scratches her chin awkwardly, remembers the elaborate lies she came up with as a child, the way Frankie called her 'Spider' for six whole months, screaming it to scare her sometimes. "I won't."

"Good. So?"

She sighs. "It felt like... like..." she glances up briefly to see Frankie raise an eyebrow at her encouragingly. "Like dropping something. Or being given a special gift. Like being in a horror movie, or like... Christmas, and Easter, and birthdays and snow days and holidays. Like finding the perfect outfit, or riding a rollercoaster, or choosing between pizza or Chinese, or..." she stopped, gasping for breath. Continued after a beat. "Or... like seeing something clearly for the first time."

Frankie is frowning, she knows this without looking, but she can't explain her thoughts any more simply than that. "So what are you going to do?" he finally asks, and she closes her eyes.

What is she going to do?

END PART TWO

_**One more part after this and that will complete this story. Please let me know what you think! :-)**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Jane?" Maura says, and Jane is frozen, unsure of what to do next, unable to remember how to move at all.

"Jane, what are you doing here?"

_It's like..._

"Jane?" The voice is directly behind Jane now and she can't help it, she shuts her eyes, slams them shut actually, like a young child playing hide and seek. I can't see you, so you can't see me. "Jane." The voice is exasperated now, and Jane lets out a breath she wasn't aware of holding, gasps in another one, wonders how breathing ever used to come easy to her.

_What tangled webs we weave..._

"Do you want me to apologize?" Jane's eyes pop open.

"No," Jane's voice is low, so low that the wind, the still present gentle pitter patter of rain almost tears it away before Maura can hear it. Almost. Not quite.

"What do you want me to do?"

Jane shakes her head. She doesn't turn around yet. "When I was a kid, Frankie called me Spider."

"Why?"

"Because I lied, all the time."

_It's like..._

Jane isn't looking at Maura, but she can picture the bewildered expression on her face as clearly as though she was holding a photograph.

"I... I don't..."

"It's that Shakespeare quote... '_What tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive...'_"

"Sir Walter Scott."

"What?" Jane finally turned around, her confusion finally overcoming her insecurities, and it is as though the world stops as she stares at Maura.

"Sir Walter Scott, not Shakespeare. And the first part of the quote actually goes _'Oh, what a tangled web we weave.'_"

Maura's cheeks are red from the cold, her eyes are red rimmed, but her lips are perfectly shaped, her hair falling in gentle waves around her head. Her eyes are still the same startling complex mix of colours, her skin still the same rosy, lightly freckled hue, and Jane wonders how it can be that it feels like she has never looked at Maura properly before; never _seen_ her, the way she deserves to be seen.

_It's..._

"I tangled my webs, Maura."

Maura looks confused again, and Jane shakes her head as she steps forward.

"You asked me if I enjoyed it... our kiss... and I said no."

Understanding dawns in Maura's eyes as Jane deliberately enters her personal space. "You lied."

"Yes."

"Why?" Maura asked, sighing softly as Jane's hands found purchase on her hips.

Jane shrugged. "Why do you think?"

"You were scared." Maura's hands, of their own accord, found their home on Jane's shoulders.

"Yes." The two bodies were pressed together, hip to hip, breast to breast, and Jane let out a long exhale. "How can something so new... feel like forever?"

Maura shakes her head. "Maybe because it is."

Jane leans down, her forehead pressed against Maura's. She longed to kiss Maura's lips, to find out if they tasted just as sweet as she remembered, but she had one final request. "Untangle my webs, Maura."

"Always."

_It's like... something indescribable. Like colours, and shapes, and sounds... a rainbow, a wind chime, a child's laughter. It's as unmeasurable and uncountable as the grains of sand on a beach, and as simple as a kiss. It's as big as the ocean, and as small as an atom._

_It is everything, and it is nothing._

_It is everything that Jane has been searching for, and nothing she ever wants to live without._

_It is Maura._

_And it is Jane._

_And this is their story._

END

**Please let me know what you think! For those that found it difficult to enjoy this story, I will shortly post the alternative 'Untangled Webs'. It is, as the title suggests, this story told in an untangled (and less confusing lol) way. :-)**


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